Apologies and Thanks
by 0-moonwind
Summary: Chell contemplates her freedom, and tries to make Wheatley understand that he's his own person now, and he's just as free as her. Android!Wheatley, Mute!Chell. Chelley. One-shot.


The stars glittered overhead, dotting the black sky with twinkling bursts of white and yellow, their beams of light seeming to be spiked or smooth in outline. They traced invisible lines, connecting each other, forming constellations of animals and objects. Their light looked so cold and empty, unwelcoming and yet still blazingly bright.

They were not _of_ the world she walked on. They were _their own_ world, and they belonged to themselves. They did not care for anything _but_ themselves. Because they didn't need to.

She looked down again, letting the icy breeze blow back her hair. It made the blood in her face feel frozen, and her ear tips tingle, but compared to unnatural air smelling of machinery and too-clean plastic, it felt absolutely wonderful. It reminded her that she had her freedom back, that she would never have to be reminded of _that place_ ever again.

Her eyes closed for a moment as she let the cold air's feeling seep through her skin, filling her with a sharp sense of just being her own person again.

Those stars had no idea how good it felt to be truly free. They were stuck up there, in space. Sure, space was infinite, but she was on earth, her home. Space wasn't a home if you didn't know what was out there. And you could never know what was at the outer fringes of an infinite place. Even something with no end had something on the other side of it.

And here in this world, there was so much more.

The pure innocence of every creature, young and old, that unique shape of each snowflake as if fluttered down to the ground, the majestic waves of the ocean crashing down on a shore. Even the mere sparkling of dew on the grass in the morning was beautiful. And there was so, so much more that she loved about it.

And, unlike down in the facility, she felt like she _belonged._ Like some powerful being had watched her emerge from that rusty old shed, and greeted her with a smile and a beckoning to explore.

She had always felt complete out here. There was nothing more for her to ask for; in her opinion, she had it all. Others would desire perhaps something to entertain themselves with other than books, or maybe a nicer home, but she felt that as long as she had her freedom, she could want no more. What point was there to asking for anything else? She had only dreamed of this before, but now it was actually right in front of her. That was just about good enough for her for the rest of her life, no matter how short or long.

She couldn't help but let a joyful grin creep across her face. Her lungs themselves felt excited, and they wanted to keep breathing quick without rest, but she held back. She had gasped for breath too many times before; deep, slow breathing was what she deserved now. A peaceful life full of happiness and rest. No more, no less.

Everyone else could clamber over popularity and power, trying to achieve their own selfish needs all they wanted. They were certainly missing out on a lot. Quiet and fresh air that wasn't taught with tension or stress was a paradise that was extremely rare, but it really was worth searching for. She had climbed over the most difficult of obstacles, both emotional and physical, to get this luxury of peace. It had been very hard, but every moment was worth it. Every second spent struggling to get this life was a second closer to her goal. And she wouldn't trade any of them if it meant her life now was any different.

Not only was she thankful for her freedom, she was thankful that she had someone to share it with. Someone who felt the same as her about all of it, remembering every minute of it, just enjoying it. If she was alone, she would feel sorry that no one could ever experience the joys of being free from that place, the pure thrill of just being alive after everything.

But, as to if he _realized_ just how great it was, she wasn't sure.

Of course he liked it- he in fact said he _loved_ the surface almost every day- but if he could ever get past the fact that he didn't belong like she did up here was unclear.

He was always gazing at her longingly, like he envied her humanity, jealous of how she was practically _made_ to be here, to enjoy it and to live it. But it wasn't in a hostile way, just in a wistful way. He still liked her as a friend, his jealousy could never get in the way of that, but he still acted a bit depressed whenever the subject was brought up.

He tried to explain to her one day that he _could_ enjoy it, and he did, but just not in the way she did.

He saw the world as an alien place, full of mystery and wonders, marveling at the fact that he was now a part of it. He didn't recognize everything the way she did, greeting everything with a comfortable familiarity. He stared in awe at big things, smiled gleefully at small things, but flashes of curiosity still going by in his black and blue eyes.

She knew he admired her for how she seemed to know _everything_, and how she showed him it was alright when something looked frightening, but she didn't know why he never accepted that he wasn't part of Aperture anymore. He wasn't their experiment, their slave, their _plaything_ anymore. He was a being of free will and the ability to choose his own path now. He always thought he couldn't do something if he wasn't made to, couldn't make his own decisions.

She tried to encourage him to make his own choices and explore this new world, but he hung back and tried to make excuses. Every single time.

She felt sorry for him that he couldn't understand that he was his own being now. But she didn't know if she could do anything about it. Two years had passed, two years of her trying to make him comfortable. She cared about how he felt about the surface; if he ever wanted to go back to Aperture, she'd have no choice but to cooperate. She wouldn't like losing him one bit, but she wanted him to be happy. They had escaped together after all, betrayal or not.

Why she was so set on keeping him here was one thing she didn't exactly know. Perhaps it was because he was the first real friend she had down there, or maybe because his awkward way of backing out of everything had caused her to feel some responsibility towards him. Or maybe both.

Either way, she wanted him with her, here in her domain. She wanted to show him everything, to discover new things with him, to teach him about the world, and maybe one day he'd know enough that he could teach her. She wanted him to feel like an equal, not like she was superior or any more intelligent in one area.

She knew he wanted her to know that he was sorry, and and that he would never let something like that happen ever again. She believed him, but he never got that he didn't need to keep apologizing constantly whenever something reminded them of it. It was best to forget what happened; it wasn't like something could ever cause that again. Not here, at least.

She did forgive him. She had told him that countless times; he never believed her.

She opened her eyes, and turned around to look at the house.

The light blue paint was chipping in places, and rust edged the white gutters above. She blinked slowly, glancing over at the front door. The screen in front had many holes, and the true wooden door behind looked beaten up and old.

She sighed. She actually preferred the house to have flaws; it gave it more of a welcoming atmosphere. If it was perfect, she would feel tempted to try to leave everything the way it was before. She'd prefer to move freely in her own home and not have to worry about things being out of place.

She jumped as the door hinges squeaked, the large object opening just a crack. Out peered a pair of inhuman eyes, their pupils shrinking as they spotted her looking back at them.

The door opened fully, pushing away the other screen door in front, and out walked a blue-haired android, watching her intently.

He smiled sheepishly, his expression of nervousness quickly becoming one of embarrassment.

She didn't know why he felt that way, but it wasn't a surprise. He was always embarrassed one way or another.

He let a slightly trembling hand wander the the back of his neck, rubbing the fake skin there gently.

"Er, beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked her, obviously trying to draw attention from his sudden appearance.

She nodded, still smiling. She turned back around to lean on the wooden railing, crossing her arms on the splintery surface and gazing back up at the sky. The stars were just as cold as ever.

He moved over to her side, placing himself in a similar position and following her line of sight.

"The moon's full tonight, you know. I mean, you probably did know, but I'm just pointing it out. It's quite a sight, look," he drew her gaze away from the stars and pointed at the white glowing ball ahead. "Looks so clear you could reach right up and grab it if you wanted."

She laughed silently, looking back at him. This seemed one of the nights where he would forget everything, just like she wanted him to. She didn't want him to be haunted by the memories every day like he had been the past week. He deserved a good rest from the thoughts.

He grinned, glancing at her for a second, then looking at the moon again. The sky was reflected to perfectly in his eyes that she could see every crater in the circular white rock above, every place where the light shone brighter in one area than another.

He blinked a few times, sighing deeply. He looked back down to the grassy ground.

"You know, I heard the moon glows because it's reflecting the light from the sun. I can barely believe that. Is it true?" he murmured, glancing hopefully at her.

She nodded again, thrumming her fingers on the wood rail top.

He responded with a blank look. "Makes sense, actually. How could a ball of rock glow? But, I still like to believe it makes its own light. Kind of like a star, except really close. But it's still my favorite thing in the sky. I don't even like the clouds you can find fun shapes in as much as I like the moon."

He let his head loll to one side. "It's quite pretty, don't you think? It looks like it's made of snow, it does. And it has that nice feel to it that you get whenever you look at it. It's so quiet, and I bet if it could talk, it would be kind and understanding. It wouldn't criticize you for being who you are and it would never insult anyone for messing up something they're just not good at."

He gave her a gentle look. "Kind of like you."

He kept his expression of peace for a moment, but as she blushed fear entered his eyes and he jumped away, his hands raising as if ready to defend himself in a fight, palms open.

He gritted his teeth. "Oh, god. Didn't mean to say that. Not at all- well, I mean you _are_ like that, and it's nice that you are but- I mean that- AGH!" he yelled, throwing his hands up to cover his face. "I'm sorry! Don't kill me, please!"

She laughed silently in amusement. His way of letting words slip out without meaning to was one of the things she enjoyed about having him around. He was excellent entertainment, and his ramblings were sometimes extremely funny.

He stayed in that pose for a moment, until he let one eye peek out from under his elbow, the gleam in it one of caution.

He saw her shoulders rise and fall in muted giggles, and he let both arms fall to his sides. "Oh, okay. Er, apparently you aren't mad. Which is an excellent sign! Very good! Results in me not being, uh, attacked, or hurt in any way..." he trailed off, the embarrassment from before returning, only this time much stronger.

Eventually a timid smile crept across his face, and he took a few small steps toward her again.

She relaxed and looked expectantly at him, seeing his mouth was opened again to speak.

He turned his head away awkwardly, the smile leaving much too quickly. "Um, as-as I was saying before, th-the moon's quite pretty, don't you think?"

She tilted her head, and just looked out again to the blank horizon. The grass was turning a yellow-straw color, an indication that winter was coming, and quickly at that. A few stalks of tall grass were already leaning to one side, as if they couldn't support their own weight anymore.

She tapped her foot impatiently on the wood beneath it. If winter was coming, then she would prefer it would hurry up and arrive. Winter meant cold and maybe snow, and that meant he would be outside all day and talking to the sky, asking for the white powder to rain down as heavily as it possibly could. He _loved_ snow, he couldn't get enough of it. He just adored being able to be outside in some sort of precipitation and not short out. Not only that, but he was artistic if he wanted to be, and creating sculptures in the snow was one of his favorite things about the surface.

His voice brought her back from her thoughts. "Um, actually, I do have something to say..."

She raised on eyebrow curiously at him.

His foot tapped nervously against the railing, and he was wringing both his hands together. "Uh, I j-just want to say... Thanks."

He lowered his head, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

She was confused. He was thanking her? Was he leaving?

He wasn't finished. "I mean, really. Thanks. I never thought for a moment that I would actually kind of feel _at home_ here. I never even thought about it as we were trying to escape. But, I do, even if it doesn't seem like it. I'm learning so much and you never gave up on me. I-I know how hard it might be for you to have me around, after everything that happened, but you stuck with me still. And that's more than I could have ever done for anyone. So, yes, thanks."

His tone was a mixture of sadness and true admiration, as was the glint in his eyes. He breathed in and spoke again.

"I literally can't explain how much I appreciate what you've done for me, and I wouldn't blame you if you had just given up from the beginning and left me by myself. I'm surprised you even forgave me in the first place. I don't apologize all the time because I don't think you forgive me; I know you do. But what I did was so horrible, I deserve to be thrown out and left to rot, or just plain killed. I don't deserve what you've given me, and I don't think a lifetime of apologizing will make me worthy of this life with you."

Her heart felt heavy with sympathy. Never before had she wished so badly that she could talk, so she could explain to him how much she wanted to help him, and he only needed to apologize once. She knew he meant it, and that was all that mattered to her about it.

She stepped forward, almost instantly right in front of him, and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest. She felt him gasp, but she stayed stubbornly where she was and hugged him tighter.

They stayed that way for a few moments, him looking down nervously at her, but eventually he smiled faintly and hugged her back. He rested his cheek atop her head, closing his eyes.

She didn't know how long they were like that, embracing each other, but that didn't matter. She wanted him to know how much _she_ appreciated him, his company and just being a good friend, and she was no higher in authority than he was.

His breathing slowed to a rhythmic movement that lulled her into an almost drowsy state, and she only leaned against him more.

"Thank you," he whispered.

* * *

**A week full of self-loathing and depressing thoughts equals a happier story to cheer me up. I can bet a million dollars that if I hadn't written this slowly through the course of four days, I would have broken down in a heap of tears. For no apparent reason. *sigh* Depression has been hard on me these past few days, and it's hard to just stay awake anymore.  
**

**I should play some horror to speed up my heart rate, but unfortunately the computer I use to play games with is being updated, and I can't use it. So this happened. I'm not sure what prompted me to write this in the first place. Probably too much stargazing. And I apologize for the uncreative title, I just can't think too well and I'm not sure what else to call it. Make up your own name for it, maybe. It's got be better than what I came up with.  
**


End file.
